


Lionheart

by jardinsdeminuit



Category: Ozmafia!! (Visual Novel)
Genre: Caramia is goodest boi, Comfort Sex, Established Relationship, F/M, Fantasy, Romance, Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:54:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26534692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jardinsdeminuit/pseuds/jardinsdeminuit
Summary: On their one-month anniversary, Caramia wants nothing more than to spend the perfect day with Fuka. But even for a mafia don with the courage of a lion, things rarely go exactly to plan.
Relationships: Caramia/Fuka (Ozmafia!!)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trawling the Internet in my post-Ozmafia depression, I've realised that there is a shocking lack of fanfiction for Caramia, so here is my attempt to fix that. :') As usual, this was originally going to be a one-shot, but I think it works better in two parts. Caramia is such a sweetheart and my favourite character in the game after Kyrie, so this was a lot of fun to write.
> 
> Part 2 coming soon!

Out of all the beautiful sights in the world, Caramia thought, nothing beat his beloved Signorina's face while she was deep in a ramble.

He rested his head on his hands, smiling absent-mindedly while Fuka listed off different foods on her fingers. As usual, it was her lips that drew his eyes the most. He could watch her mouth move for hours, regardless of the words coming out of it. Just as well, because he'd already lost track of what she was talking about.

“Are you listening?”

“Huh?” Caramia lifted his head. “Lasagna... right?”

“Yeah, exactly,” said Fuka. “I saw a picture of it in a recipe book yesterday. It looks complicated, but if we do it together, I'm sure it'll turn out fine.

“Complicated? Nah. It's just lots and lots of layers. It's actually on of Kyrie's favourites, so I'd be happy to make it with you.”

By 'one of Kyrie's favourites', of course, he meant 'one of the dishes I make that Kyrie doesn't moan about'. Well, _usually_ , at least.

Fuka took a sip of her coffee, then sliced off a corner of caramel cake with her fork. “I really want to learn how to cook again. Even if I never get as good as you, it would be nice to learn one dish.” She placed the cake in her mouth.

Caramia glanced down at his own dessert, a vanilla tray bake with raspberry filling. “Well, you've come to the right person.”

“Thank you, Caramia.”

It was still strange to hear Fuka say his name without the 'Mister' before. If he hadn't asked her specifically to drop it after a week of dating, she'd probably still be saying it, despite their closeness. Now, a month into their relationship, Caramia couldn't have been happier. To celebrate the milestone, he'd cleared out his schedule for the afternoon and taken her to his favourite cafe in Oz territory.

It was already starting to get dark by the time they stepped outside, the sky dyed various shades of orange and purple. Fuka waved goodbye to the cafe owner, who returned the gesture cheerfully.

“Even after so long, it still surprises me how early the nights come this time of year.” Caramia stretched out his arms before offering her a hand.

“What do you mean?” asked Fuka.

“Oh, of course. You haven't experienced a winter yet. Well, now that summer's over, it gets colder and the nights start getting longer, which means fewer daylight hours.”

“I see,” said Fuka. She'd been noticing the colder weather recently, but had no idea that winter brought shorter days. Having lived with the Ozes for several months now, she assumed that she'd learnt most of the imporrtant things about the world, but it still astounded her just how much there was that she didn't know. Luckily, Caramia never put her down for it, unlike a certain consigliere, who would more than likely be launching a torrade of sarcastic remarks at her expense right now.

The street was quiet around them as they walked, hand in hand, further into town. Only a few people passed them by, several of them smiling at the pair of them or muttering a 'good evening' in passing. One woman even included Fuka's name in her greeting. Fuka stared at her, wondering if they'd met before.

“You're getting famous, Signorina,” said Caramia with a grin. “People are starting to know you as the partner of this territory's don.”

Strangely enough, Fuka rarely saw him like that anymore. To the townspeople, he might be a mafia leader, but to her, he was just Caramia, her lionheart, and the man she loved more than anyone else in the world.

A sudden gust of wind swept through the street, sending a shiver down Fuka's spine. Releasing her hand, Caramia swept her up under his arm, covering her with his thick, brown coat. She slipped her arm around his waist and clung to him, the fur-lined hem tickling her chin.

“Better?” he asked softly.

“Mm.”

As they reached a crossroads, Caramia swung her to the right, into a smaller alley.

“I just need to go and see someone very quickly,” he said, motioning to a shop up ahead. The lights were on, but the sign on the door declared it closed to customers. “You'll be okay here for a few moments, won't you?”

“Of course,” said Fuka.

“All right.” Caramia slipped out of his coat, draped it around her shoulders and gave her a peck on the cheek. Then he walked up to the shop door and disappeared inside.

Alone in the dark alley, Fuka leaned back against the wall and stared up at the darkening sky. She couldn't have wished for a better day so far. With Caramia being the famiglia don, it was rare that the two of them cound spend a whole day together as a normal couple. But she knew he'd made a special effort for today.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small brown box. She removed the lid, revealing a simple gold chain bracelet. She'd spent almost all her free time over the last two weeks running errands for Kyrie to earn the money for this gift. Perhaps to someone like Caramia, who'd lived for so long, a month was nothing, but to her, it was a milestone she wanted to commemorate with something special.

“What've you got there?”

The sudden voice made Fuka snap the lid back on the box. She looked up to see a man approaching her from the mouth of the alley. He looked to be almost as tall as Axel and was swaying slightly, like the patrons who left the bar Caramia sometimes took her to after one drink too many.

“A pretty girl like you shouldn't be out this late alone,” he said, placing a hand against the wall to steady himself as he advanced. “What's your name, sweetheart?”

Fuka knew she shouldn't answer him, so she took a step back. “I-I'm not alone. I'm here with someone.”

A grin spread across the man's face. “Oh, really? And where are they now?”

Fuka took another step towards the shop. She was about to spin and make a run for it, when the man lunged forward, grabbed her by the wrist and jerked her towards him. She only managed a small scream before his hand clamped down over her mouth. The stench of alcohol filled her nose.

“Make another sound and you'll find out _just_ how quickly I can get angry,” he growled into her ear.

Fuka could only struggle against him helplessly as he dragged her towards the alley mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping from the bottom of her heart that someone had heard her scream.

They'd almost reached the main street when a gun clicked nearby. A familiar voice, deepened by rage, growled, “Leave her alone.”

Fuka opened her eyes. Caramia stood in the alley before them, the pistol in his hand aimed straight at the man holding her. His eyes were alive with anger. She'd never seen such a look on his face before.

The man scoffed behind her, but relinquished his grip and stepped away. “If you insist,  _don_ ,” he spat, then turned and raced towards the street, footsteps pounding hard against the cobblestones.

Caramia barked a “Wait!” and ran after him, but by the time he reached the end of the alley, he realised it was no use. The man was gone.

Sliding the gun back into its holster, Caramia turned back to Fuka, who was leaning back against the wall, staring at him with wide eyes. He rushed over to her and took her hands in his. “Are you okay, Signorina? Your hands... they're shaking.”

A pang of guilt stabbed at him for having left her outside. Of course, he couldn't have known that in the short time he'd been inside the shop, she'd be approached by someone, but he blamed himself all the same. He knew better than anyone about the filth that sometimes bled into his territory from the slums. How could he have been so stupid as to leave Fuka alone in the dark?

And to think, if he hadn't heard her shout and arrived just a few seconds later... He shuddered at the idea.

“I-I'm fine,” whispered Fuka. She tried to smile, though Caramia could tell it was forced. She was shaken up.

“Come on,” he muttered, bringing one of her hands up to his lips and planting a kiss on her knuckles. “We're going home.”


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out way fluffier than I intended lol. As always, feel free to drop a comment if you enjoyed!

They walked back to the mansion in near silence. Inside, Fuka greeted a pair of passing soldati with a sheepish wave before following Caramia up the stairs to his room.

Once the door was shut, the don walked straight over to his bed, flopped down on the edge of his mattress and held his face in his hands. Fuka closed the door and leaned against it, unsure of what to do.

“I failed you.” Caramia's words were barely more than a mutter.

“You didn't—”

“I did.” Realising he'd spoken more harshly than he'd meant to, Caramia lowered his voice. “There's no use trying to convince me otherwise. I know you're just trying to comfort me, Signorina, but I almost let...” He shook his head, as if he couldn't bring himself to end that sentence.

Slowly, Fuka walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Then she reached out and hugged his head to her chest.

“You saved me. That's all that matters,” she said.

Sighing softly, Caramia returned the embrace. “You're always so forgiving, even when I mess up,” he muttered against her.

Fuka ruffled his blond hair, remembering fondly the days when she'd just been taken in by the Oz family and Caramia had developed a habit of doing the same to her, much to her annoyance. Since then, it had become a gesture of love, a private joke the pair of them shared.

Caramia looked up at her with wide amber eyes. “You're too precious to me. I can't lose you.”

The sudden swelling in her chest caught Fuka off guard. Sensing this, the don smiled, guided her lips to his and kissed her.

What had obviously been intended as a light peck quickly turned deeper, as Fuka leaned into Caramia and wrapped her hands in his hair. He groaned softly, his lips parting hers, allowing him to slip his tongue into the cavern of her mouth.

Fuka wasn't sure who broke the kiss, only that by the time it was over, her head was hazy with wanting. Unable to think of anything else, she gestured at Caramia's coat. “Sh-shall I take it?”

With a grin, the man shook his head, slipped the garment off and threw it over the footboard at the base of the bed. Then he grabbed Fuka by the waist and pulled her onto the bed.

Fuka giggled as she hit the mattress. In one expert move, Caramia flipped on top of her, and then he was kissing her again. His hands explored her curves, not staying in any one place for too long so as to cover every inch of her body. When he slipped his hand beneath her skirt and brushed the bare skin of her thigh, Fuka felt her cheeks flush scarlet.

Caramia smirked, pleased with her reaction. While his Signorina's smiling face was his favourite, there was something about her wide-eyed look of embarrassment that drew him in like nothing else, especially if she happened to be pinned beneath him at the time.

Deciding to tease her just a little longer before going further, Caramia pulled his hand back from her leg and tugged at the string on her bodice. With it undone, he was able to pull down the top of her blouse, exposing the skin of her collar, smooth and pale except for a slight pink mark, a fading remnant of the last night they'd spent together.

Fuka gasped as he lowered his lips. He trailed a line of kisses from her collar up the side of her neck, only pausing to give her a gentle nip or swirl his tongue against her skin, before whispering into her ear, “Why don't you help me with my jacket?”

Fuka didn't need to be asked twice. Her hands flew to his jacket and worked on unbuttoning it while Caramia ran his fingers through her hair. Once she'd finished, she slipped it over his shoulders and placed it on the floor.

“Very good,” he said and kissed her again.

He'd promised himself he'd hold back for as long as he could, but mere moments had passed before he found his hand returning to Fuka's leg. He ran his fingertips along her skin, then grabbed the underside of her thigh and hitched her leg up around his waist so that he could better position himself over her.

They were so close now that Fuka was sure Caramia could feel her own fluttering heart through his chest. She gripped him with her legs, unable to keep back a soft moan when she felt him grind his hips against her, his member already achingly hard inside his trousers.

He raised his head, breaking the kiss. “Here.” With a little help from Fuka, he unlaced her bodice fully and slid the dress over her head, then did the same to her blouse.

Now exposed down to her underwear, Fuka felt her face burning again. Despite having shared a bed for weeks now, she still felt a hint of embarrassment at being naked in front of Caramia. He gently pinched her cheek. “You look so cute, Signorina.”

“Thank you,” she said, then quickly added, “So do you.”

“I'm... cute?” asked Caramia, raising an eyebrow.

Worrying she'd upset him, Fuka shook her head. The don pulled an expression of shock. “So... you're saying I'm _not_ cute.”

For a moment, Fuka just sat there, unsure of whether he was teasing her or not. Then his lips turned up in a grin. She pushed his shoulder playfully back as he began to laugh. “You scared me!”

“Of course, the correct answer to that question is, 'Yes, Caramia. You're the bravest, strongest, most handsome _and_ the cutest of them all',” he said.

“And the one with the biggest head,” Fuka giggled.

“Mm. Perhaps I should show you what this head can do. Come here.”

Before Fuka could protest, he'd leaned forward and whisked her onto his lap. His arms snaked around her waist and held her to him, her bare back pressed against his chest. It was hard for her to imagine that this was the same man who just ten minutes ago had been sitting on his bed, head in his hands.

Caramia lowered his head to her neck and kissed her. She gasped as he nipped the just below her ear, his fangs, a remnant from his days as a lion, tickling as they grazed her sensitive skin. He trailed a hand over her stomach and brushed a finger along her underwear, pleasantly surprised at the wetness that was already soaking through.

“I haven't even touched you down there and you're already this wet,” he whispered against her neck.

A shiver travelled down Fuka's back as Caramia touched her again, tracing a finger from the bottom of her opening to the top and back again through her underwear. He was just teasing her, Fuka knew. The light pressure he applied only intensified the ache that twisted at the base of her stomach, making her squrim in his arms.

“Getting impatient, are we?” Caramia kept his voice steady to hide the fact that he, too, was finding it hard to hold back. But if there was one thing he'd learnt recently, it was that things were better when taken slowly. After all, they had a whole, uninterrupted night before them.

He intructed Fuka to lay on her back, which she did. Then he got on his knees beside the bed, slowly slid off her underwear and positioned her knees either side of his head. Fuka looked down at him expectantly, propped up on her elbows, pastel pink hair falling in long waves to the bed.

Caramia leaned forward and planted a kiss against her heat. He started with long, slow movements, lapping up the wetness that had leaked onto her skin, before turning his attention to her clit. He swirled his tongue around it, alternating between licking and sucking. By now, he had a good idea on Fuka liked best. The small moan that fell from her lips confirmed that he was doing something right.

“Cara...mia...” Fuka trembled beneath his touch. Every flick of his tongue sent a new wave of desire fluttering through her. The back of her head hit the mattress, and she raised her hips, urging him on.

The man lifted his head to position his fingertip against her opening. With a permissive nod from Fuka, he slid it inside.

Her breath hitched in her throat. It wasn't that Caramia's fingers were particularly thick – in fact, she'd always commented on what beautiful, slender hands he had – but rather feeling him inside her left her vulnerable in a whole new kind of way. He curled his finger upwards, earning another involuntary gasp from her lips.

“Shall I continue?” he asked, flashing her a boyish grin that Fuka was weak to refuse.

He worked both parts in tandem, sliding his finger in and out of her while his mouth closed around her clit. Fuka groaned at the mounting pressure between her legs. Her hands squeezed the bedsheets, hips bucking against him. She wanted more of him. All of him.

He added a second fingers, and for few moments, she forgot how to breathe.

“Caramia, I'm going to...”

No sooner had she said those words did Fuka's orgasm hit her. She groaned, paralysed by the waves that pulsed through her, tightening every one of her muscles. When she finally relaxed, she realised her whole body was trembling.

Caramia slipped his wet fingers free. His mind felt hazy. Watching Fuka come undone, feeling her heat clench around him, hearing her moans... It was all too much. The ache in his groin had become an almost physical pain, turning even the press of his cock against his trousers into pure torture.

He quickly stripped himself of his shirt and trousers and climbed up. Fuka, who had just about recovered to the point where she could move again, pushed herself back onto the bed. She realised with a start that she was still wearing her bra. She lifted her hands to undo it, but Caramia fell upon her and did it himself. He threw the garment aside and gave her breasts a quick, hard squeeze before tapping her hip, indicating for her to switch onto her front.

Fuka did as she was told, stretching out across the length of the bed, stomach against the sheets, arms tucked beneath her chin. She may have climaxed only a minute ago, but she could already sense the familiar warmth pooling in the pit of her abdomen, mixed with nervous anticipation of what was to come.

After removing his own underwear, Caramia took his place above her. He propped himself up on his arms and rested his hips against hers. Fuka ground herself against him. Even the gentle rub of her soft skin against his member was enough to make his head spin.

Unable to hold back any longer, he took himself in his hand and placed his head against Fuka's opening. Then, slowly, he began to push in.

Despite her wetness, Fuka still found her body resisting, her walls aching as they stretched to accommodate Caramia's girth. She wriggled beneath him, eyes squeezed shut, fingers gripping the sheets. Sensing her discomfort, Caramia paused to press a kiss to her ear.

“Good girl,” he whispered.

He dropped a hand to her hip and angled her up slightly to allow him easier access. Then he pushed forward again, sheathing himself inside her completely with a gasp. Fuka bucked against him, sending a ripple of sensation through him that made him bite his lip.

He longed to take her vigorously on the spot, but knew he had to be extra gentle when it came to his Signorina. The thought of hurting her, even by accident, was too much for him to bear. He began to move with slow, rolling thrusts, making sure to pause when she appeared uncomfortable. He didn't mind, of course. There was something beautiful about taking it slow with Fuka, watching her reactions, hearing her noises, and knowing that it was all because of him. He needed to make sure that she was enjoying herself as well, after all.

“Are you okay?” Caramia's voice was little more than a breathy moan.

“I'm... fine,” Fuka replied. Now that her body was a little more used to him, she allowed herself to relax a little. Caramia responded by speeding up his pace. Each thrust rocked her to her core, drawing moans from her mouth that made her cheeks turn red.

She reached out a hand, which Caramia caught and pinned to the bed, fingers entwining around hers. His other hand left the mattress to curl around her chest and squeeze her against him.

The tightening in Caramia's abdomen told him he didn't have long left. His thrusts had become rougher, his hips moving faster as he felt his climax build. He lowered his head and buried his face in her nape. The urge to bite down on her neck was overwhelming, but he pressed his lips to her hair instead, peppering the back of her head with kisses. She turned her head and caught his lips. It was enough to push him over the edge.

“Signorina, I—”

Caramia's melted into a groan as he came. He clasped Fuka to his chest, shuddering and gasped against her. It felt like a lifetime had passed before he finally came back to earth. Relaxing his grip, he pulled out and collapsed onto the bed beside her, still reeling from the force of his climax.

Fuka rolled onto her side to face him. Her cheeks were pink from a mixture of exertion and embarrassment. Caramia reached out an arm and placed a hand on her shoulder, prompting her to shuffle closer to him.

They kissed for a while. This was always the part Fuka loved most, even more than the act itself: lying in the don's arms, lips locked together as they basked in the wake of what they'd just shared. Her fingers played with the tips of his hair, stroking out the light tangles that had appeared.

“That tickles,” laughed Fuka when they'd broken apart.

“Sorry,” said Caramia, lifting the hand he'd been trailing back and forth over her ribs. He smiled and brushed a strand of hair from her eyes.

Now that she'd cooled down a little, Fuka found her throat felt a little dry. “I'm going downstairs to get a drink. Would you like one, too?”

Caramia shook his head. He watched as she slid off the side of the bed, walked over to the coat hooks by the door where his crimson gown hung and draped it over her shoulders. The garment swamped her small frame.

Fuka made her way down to the kitchen. Her body ached still, but it was a comfortable pain and one she was used to by now. She hoped she wouldn't pass any soldati on her journey. While they all knew by now that she and the don were involved, it was somewhat nerve-wracking walking through the Oz mansion in his sleepwear.

When she reached the kitchen, she flicked on the light, grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water from the tap. Then she turned and leaned against the counter. She almost jumped to see a figure sitting at the table, a book in his hand.

“Mr Kyrie!” she exclaimed. “I didn't see you there.”

“Well, of course you didn't. It was dark.” Kyrie lifted his eyes from his book to give her a withering stare. “Please don't let me interrupt you.”

Fuka sipped her water as quickly as she could. The consigliere was dressed in ivory sleepwear and his hair was a little more wild than usual, making her wonder if he'd been in bed at some point.

Once she'd finished her drink, she gave the glass a quick rinse and placed it upside down on the draining board. “You must have good eyes if you're reading in the dark.”

“Good ears, too,” said Kyrie. He looked straight at her and sighed. “Would you kindly tell your asinine lover that if I am subjected to the sound of his animalistic rutting once again, I'll tear them off with my bare hands and have them fried up in a saucepan in lieu of tomorrow's breakfast.”

Fuka didn't know what half of those words meant, neither was she sure what 'them' Kyrie was threatening to fry, though she was sure she understood his general complaint. Not for the first time that night, her cheeks flushed. “I-I'm sorry.”

“Yes, you should be.” Kyrie returned his attention to the book in his hand, but there was no mistaking the slight smile that pulled at the corners of his lips. He waved his hand dismissively. “Go, now. I'm sure poor Caramia's dying to know why his dearly beloved is taking so long to return to his arms.”

After apologising once again, Fuka rushed from the kitchen, up the stairs and didn't stop running until she reached the bedroom.

“Signorina?” Caramia was sitting up in the bed. Concern painted his face.

“I'm fine.” Fuka replaced the nightgown on the hook, walked over to him and told him, to the best of her memory, what Kyrie had said to her. Caramia's expression stiffened, and then he laughed.

“Well, I guess our rooms are side by side,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “I'll keep that in mind next time.”

“I'm still not sure what he meant,” said Fuka.

“It's, uh, nothing you need to worry about. Just Kyrie being Kyrie.”

Fuka smiled and rested her head against Caramia's chest. The warm glow from the table lamp he'd turned on while she'd been downstairs, combined with the steady rise and fall of his chest, was beginning to make her eyelids feel heavy.

Sensing that Fuka was on the verge of drifting, Caramia pulled the blankets up to her chin and ran a hand through her hair. It was strange, he thought, how after all his years as don, he'd never wanted for love, so long as he had his famiglia around him. Now that Fuka was here, he couldn't imagine a life without her.

He pressed a kiss to her head and whispered, “Goodnight, my Signorina. I love you.” Then, carefully so as not to wake her, he leaned over to his bedside table and turned off the lamp.


End file.
